If she had to leave the company, would it mean moving?

She didn’t want to move. She’d been raised here, by her grandmother, who had loved everything about London and had been keen to share its joys and its history with her granddaughter.

Do you see this, Lucy? Pudding Lane, where the Great Fire of London started in 1666.

They’d visited the Tower of London, Lucy’s favorite place. They’d strolled through the parks hand in hand, picnicked on damp grass, fed ducks, rowed a boat on the Serpentine. Her annual Christmas treat had been a visit to the Royal Opera House to watch a performance of The Nutcracker. Every street and every landmark, famous and not so famous, were tangled up with memories of her grandmother.

She loved London. She belonged here. Sometimes it felt as if the city had wrapped its arms around her, as her grandmother had in those early days after her parents had died.

This time of year was particularly tough. It was impossible not to think about her grandmother at Christmas. Impossible not to wish for one more day with her, walking through the city looking at the sparkling window displays, and then sipping hot chocolate in a warm café. They’d talked about everything. There wasn’t a single thing Lucy had held back from her grandmother, and she desperately missed that. She missed being able to talk freely, without worrying that she was a burden.

Unconditional love. Love that could be depended on. That was what she missed, but that gift had been ripped away from her, leaving her feeling cold, exposed and alone.

She sat, made miserable by memories, and then caught sight of Arnie’s face and felt guilty for being selfish and thinking about herself when he was going through hell. He was worrying about everyone’s futures.

They had to win a big account, they had to.

Arnie was still talking. “Let’s start by looking at the positive. We are harnessing the power of social media and changing the way brands reach their customers. We are experts in influencer marketing. We are changing consumer habits—”

Lucy made a few notes on the pad in front of her.

In less than a minute she had a list of about ten people to call who might be able to help her with the Fingersnug. People she’d built a relationship with. People who would be only too happy to do her a favor, knowing that they’d be able to reclaim it in the future.